


another place (where dreams are made)

by androgenius



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dream Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, First Kiss, M/M, Masturbation, Night Terrors, Oral Sex, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Valentine's Day, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23334733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: Felix figures it out. Kind of.Or: A look at what might have happened following on Maru's V-Day Dimilix Comic.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	another place (where dreams are made)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been living and dying by Maru's [Valentine's Day comic](https://twitter.com/marureenu/status/1228389675854946309) ever since she posted it, aaaand after talking about it with her the other day, the dimilix brainworms set in with yet another idea (because apparently I really needed another one??) on how a follow-up would end up playing out, and how the boys might act after that particular trainwreck.
> 
> So then I wrote this! Because it's honestly the very least Maru deserves, seeing as she's working at a hospital in my country during this pandemic ♥ I hope you all enjoy, since it really got away from me, as these boys usually do (just be sure to read the comic first, or it won't make any sense)!

Felix goes to bed angry that night, head filled with thoughts of the boar. 

Why he even bothered is beyond him. It wasn't as though he _meant_ any of it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have decided to express the sentiment by _regifting_ a box of chocolates originally intended for him.

But no, Felix was an afterthought. Granted chocolates out of _convenience_ more than anything else. 

It shouldn't bother him. He has no reason to be angry.

After all, it's not as though he wants to be anything more than an afterthought to the boar.

Ridiculous, all of it.

And yet, putting it out of his thoughts seems an impossibility. 

&

> _"Dimitri sure gets a lot of attention! One could almost get jealous, right, Ashe?"_
> 
> _"I imagine Felix has more reason to feel jealous."_
> 
> _Felix doesn't pay them any mind. Meaningless chatter-- and worse, **gossip--** don't concern him. He's above all that. With the real thing, there's no need for petty jealousy. _
> 
> _"Felix!" Dimitri's whole face seems to light up at the sight of him, not that he's in any place to judge. It's not as though he's any better._
> 
> _"Someone's popular," he says, a smile playing on his lips as he takes a seat beside him. "It's such a shame that you can't taste any of it."_
> 
> _He sighs, looking over one of the boxes. "I do wish they'd stop. As kind as it is, I simply cannot imagine that there are no ulterior motives behind any of them. They know that I have a boyfriend, so I don't see why they keep trying."_
> 
> _"Hoping to muscle in on my territory? I'm sure at least a few of them are banking on you eventually choosing to take a wife to make queen."_
> 
> _"Felix," Dimitri says, his expression bordering on hurt, "you should know that I don't wish to marry anyone but you."_
> 
> _"They don't know that." Felix feels his cheeks color. Honestly, leave it to Dimitri to just **say something like that**._
> 
> _He feels his hand slip effortlessly into Dimitri's, drawing his gaze to the look of pure adoration on his boyfriend's face._
> 
> _"It doesn't matter to me. I know who I'm devoted to. I can only hope you know the same."_
> 
> _Ah, hell... it should be illegal to be that sweet._
> 
> _"Of course I know that."_
> 
> _That finds him rewarded with a squeeze of his hand._
> 
> _"So," he continues, eager to change the subject off of how embarrassing Dimitri is, "are you planning on just tossing the chocolate?"_
> 
> _"I do feel badly about that... I don't suppose you would care for any of it?"_
> 
> _"You know I don't like sweets. Besides, regifting, Dima? You can do better than that."_
> 
> _"Ah." A smile lights up Dimitri's face as he reaches beside himself and into the grass. "That's why I got you this."_
> 
> _The dagger is gorgeous, engraved with his crest as if to drive home just **how** personal it is, the lengths Dimitri must have gone to just to requisition this piece. _
> 
> _"This is magnificent, Dima. Though I'm surprised you didn't opt for a sword..."_
> 
> _"And lead with the pièce de résistance? Hardly. Your birthday is coming up in less than a week."_
> 
> _Felix blinks at him. So what if Felix commissioned the master swordsmith Zoltan to fashion a blade just for Dimitri? That pales in comparison to this. A matching set? He's blown away._
> 
> _"I can't believe you did that. This must have cost you a fortune. I didn't-- I didn't need **this** much--"_
> 
> _"I wanted to do it. You mean the world to me, Felix. I love y--"_
> 
> _Felix doesn't let him finish the sentence, just kissing him instead._
> 
> _Dimitri is eager enough to return the sentiment, so much so that he has to resist the urge to get inappropriate in public._
> 
> _Of course, then Dimitri pulls him into his lap and Felix decides to throw caution to the wind and straddle him._
> 
> _"And if someone sees us?" he whispers, nipping at Dimitri's lower lip._
> 
> _"Let them, Felix. Perhaps it will remind them that I am taken and not able to be plied with chocolates."_
> 
> _"I have something back in my room that I sure hope will get the job done, though."_
> 
> _"Ah...? But you don't need to ply me with anything-- **oh, Felix** \--"_
> 
> _"Don't give me that," he whispers against his lips, his hand having slid down between their bodies to palm at Dimitri's crotch. "As if I care. It's not like you need to ply me with anything, but as far as I can tell you did a damn good job."_
> 
> _Dimitri doesn't fight him on that, though whether or not it happens because he concedes the point or on account of the rapidly hardening length beneath Felix's hand, he can't be sure._
> 
> _Not that it makes a difference, he supposes._
> 
> _Leaning in close to his ear, Felix catches Dimitri's earlobe between his teeth to tease at._
> 
> _"You should take me back to my room, open your present, and **fuck me** \--"_

Felix wakes with a start.

It's far from the first time that he's awoken drenched in sweat, but the nature of the dream this time could not be more different. No bodies so covered in blood that one can't tell whether or not they're alive, no screams of the dying, no red-eyed boars baring their tusks at him. 

Instead, his cock is hard and his sheets are damp, and all he can think about is kissing the boar, his hand on the boar's crotch, the words _fuck me_ leaving his mouth while speaking to the boar--

Just how personally did he take yesterday? How fixated must he have been on his anger for it to manifest in such a way? 

His blood thunders in his ears and he feels himself throb in his smallclothes. 

Fuck. _Fuck._ That isn't just going away on its own.

He wonders how fast he can come. He's already so riled up-- _because of the boar_ \-- that he can't imagine it would take too long or too much effort on his part. 

Grabbing hold of himself, he lets out a groan just loud enough that he has to hope Dimitri doesn't hear. Fuck.

This better not become a problem. The last thing he needs is to pick up a dependence on masturbation to keep _the boar_ , of all people, out of his thoughts. 

For now, it is doing a terrible job of accomplishing just that. Each and every stroke seems to bring with it visions of Dimitri-- no, _the boar_ \-- and he lets out a groan of frustration. 

This is impossible. 

Mentally willing himself to focus on nothing isn't working-- and just _thinking_ different things isn't keeping the image of Dimitri, warm and adoring, out of his head, the promise of what lies beneath his trousers--

No. He needs a _visual,_ Felix deciding to focus on his sword.

That lasts all of two seconds before the memory of his dream-- the magnificent gift and promise of an even better birthday to follow-- takes hold of him again. 

A white sheet. There's nothing remotely sexual or Dimitri-related about all-white sheets. 

His thoughts continue to threaten to defy, to slip, but for the most part, he maintains his focus. 

Naturally, that should come with its own problem attached.

He can't fucking _finish._

Every time his thoughts stray back to Dimitri's face, his hips jerk up into his hand as if begging him for more like a truly pathetic dog. 

Fine.

If that's what it takes to get the boar out of his fucking system.

He'll lean into it-- he just isn't remotely happy about it. 

He slips back into the memory of his dream like butter-- his hand over Dimitri's crotch, teasing, his breath hot against his temple. The words leave him just as easily-- _fuck me_. Dimitri's hips jerk up, and--

He wouldn't hesitate, Felix decides. Dimitri's good at taking direction, and they would have hurried back to his room hand-in-hand. Showing off a little, _maybe,_ but it's his shameful fantasy, isn't it? He can have this. 

In fact, the fucking mountain of chocolates can be left behind to rot for all he cares. 

(And he does care.)

Opening his present could wait until after they'd fucked-- they have their priorities in order, after all, and Dimitri has always been delightfully eager to please. So much so that it's all too easy to imagine him sinking down to his knees, undoing the closure of Felix's trousers, and taking his cock in his mouth without question. 

The groan that escapes him borders on shameless, Felix raking a hand into his hair to tug. He considers edging himself for the sake of the fantasy, just so it doesn't end too soon, but then his body makes the decision for him, Felix coming harder than he can ever remember. 

He allows himself to just lie there for a while, chest heaving while he pants. Did that just happen? The slowly drying cum on his chest feels like miserable, unwanted evidence following a crime. 

somehow this feels worse than most, though.

Getting up to wash himself off, he sighs. Well. At least it's out of his system. The dreadful deed is done, and now he's over it.

Nothing could be simpler. 

&

He's not over it. 

The realization struck him on a number of occasions: 

Jumping a good foot in the air when approached from behind by Dimitri.

Knocking the entirety of Sylvain's lunch into his lap upon Dimitri sitting down opposite them.

Having to bite back the tremendous urge to punch Sylvain after he asks what the matter is with him (and then punching him in the stomach, anyway).

 _Skittish,_ Byleth calls him after the last one, as though he's a cat expecting a particularly large and Dimitri-shaped dog to bite him in the ass at any time. 

Felix doesn't appreciate the implication-- or the visual his mind decides to supply him with. Dimitri is a Golden Retriever at best. There's nothing threatening about him. Of course Felix doesn't feel _threatened._ Why would he?

So what if he's not over it? Who could possibly expect him to be calm after something like that? Even if it was just a dream. 

After all, it was a particularly vivid dream. 

(In his defense. 

Which he certainly doesn't need. 

There's nothing _to_ justify or defend in the first place.)

&

It's two days later that Felix ends up overhearing his name in conversation between Dimitri and the professor.

And while he would have likely turned around and fled on sight (again, he is _not_ threatened by Dimitri, a literal puppy of a person, murderous and vicious though he may be, the _boar_ ) should Dimitri have approached him, now the thought of _not_ confronting him makes his blood boil. 

He has the good graces and manners to wait until the conversation concludes before making his move, Felix already on edge and red-faced to start.

" _Boar!_ "

"Felix! I was just t--"

"Do you think it's funny to talk about people behind their backs?"

"What? Felix, no-- _of course not._ I was just talking to the professor about you, but only to ask advice. I've been trying to talk to you for days, but I do daresay you've been avoiding me."

Well, fuck. 

"What could you possibly have to say to me that's so important that it demanded bothering the professor?"

"I--" Dimitri seems to wilt before him, Felix doing his best to swallow down the guilt that hits him at the sight. "I wished to apologize for Va-- for the other day. Ever since then... you haven't been acting like yourself. And while I know that things have been... _strained_ between us for some time, I'd hate to think that I did something to further worsen the poor opinion you have of me."

Ugh. Stupid boar. 

Stupid, reasonable boar. 

"Don't talk to me. Stop talking to anyone else about me. Do us both a favor and stop trying. You're just wasting your time."

The boar's face falls, Felix turning to leave as quickly as he arrived, not willing to entertain his pathetic puppy dog eyes for even a second. It doesn't matter that the sight makes his heart hurt or that seeing the boar look so pitifully disappointed feels a little like getting stabbed.

None of it means anything.

&

> _His fingers tighten in hair and he doesn't have to look to know that it's blond._
> 
> _Dimitri sucks dick like he was born to do it, which is a far cry better than any of his princely duties and expectations. He's **good** at this, almost unfairly so, and Felix isn't sure there exists a better place to put his hands. _
> 
> _Like they belong there._
> 
> _" **Dima** ," he groans, his head falling back onto his pillow. His hips can't help but cant up as Dimitri looks up at him through hooded eyes, mouth as desperate and obedient as ever._
> 
> _The sound coming from around his cock can only be called **obscene**. _
> 
> _Already, Felix feels close, though he insists on blaming Dimitri's talent with his tongue for that._
> 
> _It's not enough, though-- he's not ready for this to be over yet, to **leave** Dimitri. _
> 
> _Then again, he's not sure it'll ever be enough._
> 
> _"Stop-- Dima, you gotta stop or I'll come."_
> 
> _Goddess help him, Dimitri actually looks **disappointed** as he pulls off of his cock. He'll never understand why he enjoys sucking dick so much, but he's not about to complain, not when the sight of Dimitri on his knees-- whether on the bed or the floor-- is always a sight to behold._
> 
> _"Do you want me to make love to you, Felix?"_
> 
> _The words-- ones that feel so comfortable and **right** \-- give way to a terrifying reality: before him, Dimitri starts to grow tusks, eyes going red and bloodthirsty even as they keep begging for approval._
> 
> _"Don't you want me anymore, Felix?"_
> 
> _Hooves replace the hands on either side of him, Felix starting to scramble back in an attempt to escape._
> 
> _It's useless; he's backed into a corner. No escape._
> 
> _"Don't you love me anymore, Felix?"_
> 
> _Dimitri starts to crumble into dust and sand and silt, dissolving into pieces right alongside Felix's dream._

He wakes gasping.

He's hard again-- but he hopes it's the kind of erection he can just piss away. That it's not because he didn't have the chance to come in his dream. 

If only he was so lucky.

A part of him already knows it won't work. That his miserable, traitorous body is intent on making him relive not only the images that have left him to wake up covered in sweat, half-boar, half-man Dimitri, but the thought of Felix's cock in his mouth, needy and painfully eager to please.

He decides it's not worth fighting it and just comes to the thought of the boar. 

Well-- on. The man. But--

Fucking hell. He needs to stop interacting with Dimitri entirely. 

It can't possibly be that difficult.

&

His birthday ends up proving him wrong. 

He doesn't wake up to any nightmares-- thank the goddess for small miracles-- but when he opens the door, it's to the sight of all his friends there to wish him a happy birthday.

Well.

Not _all_ his friends. Dimitri isn't there. 

The same holds true for when his favorite food ends up being served for both lunch and dinner in the dining hall, when he goes to train and finds an uncommon but no less pleasant amount of challengers against whom to test his mettle, and when he reluctantly accepts his presents. 

Dimitri simply... isn't there.

It's already bad enough that his thoughts are on the boar all day, making his absence all the more noticeable. (He _could_ have had a crest-personalized sword to match the Valentine's Day dagger he also didn't get, but no, of course not.) 

No matter how objectively good his birthday may have seemed in hindsight, there's simply a large part... missing. 

So when night falls with no acknowledgment from Dimitri _still_ , he finds his steps carrying him to the boar's door, of all places. 

He raises his hand to knock.

Lowers it again.

Raises--

This is ridiculous. He shouldn't even be here. He was the one who told Dimitri exactly what he wanted from him, which was, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off and leave him alone. What right does he have--

The door opens, Dimitri almost running into him on his way out.

"Felix!" 

The flush that creeps over his cheeks is immediate and more than a little damning, Felix lowering his hand again as he stares, the eye contact is painfully uncomfortable what with Dimitri just fucking _blinking_ at him like an idiot. Averting his gaze, he clears his throat. 

He needs... to say something. _Someone_ needs to say something. Anything. Would Dimitri believe him if he tried to tell him that he had the wrong door?

Ugh.

"What are you doing here?" Dimitri finally aks, which is... really a valid question. What _is_ he doing here? Did he really just come to Dimitri's room to demand an acknowledgment of his birthday?

Pathetic. 

"Wrong room," he hears himself say, and proceeds to curse himself in roughly a dozen different ways in rapid succession. 

"You..." Dimitri blinks. Gives him a once-over. "You were going to knock on your own door?"

 _Ugh!_

"Never mind," he growls, turning to leave. 

He makes it half a step before Dimitri's hand shoots out and grabs hold of his arm.

"Felix-- wait."

" _Let go of me,_ boar."

"I know why you're here." Dimitri lets go, just as instructed. Obedient. "I just-- I thought you wanted me to stay away from you."

Well, naturally. Seeing as he told him to.

"Not--" He clears his throat, staring up at the support beams above him. Anywhere but at Dimitri. "Not _that_ much."

He knows it's a ridiculous thing to ask of anyone. Don't talk to me, but don't _completely_ stop talking to me because it will make me feel like you don't care? No, by all means, keep trying, Dimitri. Continue throwing yourself at the brick wall that keeps insulting you and hope that someday you'll make it through?

And of course Dimitri only smiles at him. As though he knows perfectly well that that's the kind of unreasonable, ridiculous child of a person he is and cares about him in spite of it. 

Cares _for_ him.

"Happy birthday, Felix."

&

> _The landscape shifts beneath his feet, rubble and bodies materializing out of thin air to take shape._
> 
> _Felix doesn't like this place._
> 
> _He's nine years old and doesn't recognize his surroundings, but he knows that he **will** , knows that he doesn't like it as much as he knows that his hands in Dima's are warm and safe and he need not be afraid. _
> 
> _Oh, yes. Dima is here, too, both of his hands clasped safely in his own._
> 
> _"I don't like this place," he tells him softly, as though his words would be just as safe carried inside Dima forever as if he just kept them to himself forever._
> 
> _"It's okay. I don't like it, either. But I'm here, and I'll protect you."_
> 
> _Felix believes him without question._
> 
> _He's fourteen then, his hands still in in Dima's, who's just as old as he is._
> 
> _But something **is** different. He's started feeling funny when he thinks about Dima, and funnier when Dima tells him he's pretty like a girl. He's going to have to marry one of those someday, but that thought has been uncomfortably settled in his belly for ages now. He's almost used to the ache. _
> 
> _"I don't like this place," he says again, Dima squeezing his hands with a smile that makes his insides flutter._
> 
> _"It's okay," he says, "we're almost there. You'll stay with me, won't you, Felix?"_
> 
> _Won't he? He can't remember._ _Except that then he's fifteen and **does,** and everything is different. _
> 
> _"I don't like this place," Dima whispers, eyes wild and terrified. His hands are trembling. No-- all of him is trembling. "Don't leave me, Felix."_
> 
> _Felix opens his mouth to answer but is only met with silence. Why can't he say anything? Dima is **hurt**. He needs to reassure him--_
> 
> _The hands are gone, and Felix finds himself the one trembling in the wake of their loss._
> 
> _**Dima,** he wants to say, but no sound escapes his throat. He tries **Dimi** and **Dimitri** , too, but it's as though they've simply ceased to exist. _
> 
> _Out of the depths of his subconscious, a truth comes forth to meet the air._
> 
> _"Boar," he says, quietly at first, and then louder again. "Boar!"_
> 
> _That's always been its name, hasn't it? At least, he can't remember any other._
> 
> _The small shoat in front of him looks harmless enough. Trembling, crying, soft little whines leaving him-- but he's supposed to know better, isn't he? It's just a boar._
> 
> _"I don't like this place," Felix hears himself say, and realizes that he is alone._
> 
> _A battlefield graveyard just for him and the sad, shivering creature before him._
> 
> _He's eighteen years old, and he doesn't like this place._
> 
> _The creature before him is no longer a creature but a man on his hindlegs. He looks boarish, though, and Felix knows not to make a stupid mistake._
> 
> _The **man** before him **is** the same boar as before, scared and alone and... v_ _icious._
> 
> _Why was that easier to believe before? His hands feel so empty without Dima's to hold._
> 
> _Dima... that was his name, wasn't it?_
> 
> _"Felix," the man-boar interrupts his thoughts. Felix wants him to take his hands, but instead he just places one of his own on his chest. "This is mine, isn't it?"_
> 
> _"What?"_
> 
> _The word comes out as a hoarse whisper of disbelief._
> 
> _"This is mine," Dimitri says._
> 
> _This time, it's not a question._
> 
> _Fingers tighten in fabric, and Felix blinks down at himself with a dry swallow. His throat feels like sand._
> 
> _His heart._
> 
> _That's where Dimitri's hand is._
> 
> _" **This is mine.** "_

Felix wakes just as Dimitri's hand penetrates his chest, his ribcage, and grabs hold of his heart. His blood is pounding in his head, heart thundering in a way that borders on reassuring if only because at least it's still _there_ instead of in Dimitri's--

Fuck. 

_Fuck_. 

Tearing the blanket off of his body, Felix leaves his room without bothering to change out of his loungewear, fabric still clinging to his skin. It's _cold_ at Garreg Mach in February, but he doesn't care, can barely even feel it as the wind dries his sweat-slicked skin, Felix leaning back against the cold brick outside of the dormitories. 

He needs... what does he need? Does he even know?

_This is mine._

Running a hand through his hair, Felix finds that he's shaking like a leaf, and not even remotely from cold. 

Fuck. 

Knees that threaten to buckle carry him to the edge of the foundation. He's not sure how he manages to sit without falling, but he does, his legs dangling off the edge as he stares ahead of himself. 

_This is mine._

"Felix?"

He feels his heartbeat through his entire body, rapid now, as he turns to look at Dimitri. 

Of all people. 

"You couldn't sleep either, I take it? Might I join you?" 

What happened to Dimitri avoiding him? Fingernails dig into stone. 

_This is mine_. 

"Ah," he continues, as if Felix had said anything at all, a sheepish, somewhat sad smile on his face. "I-- I don't know what came over me. I do apologize for disturbing you; I'll take my leave from you."

"No--" Felix hears his voice crack, hoarse from apparent disuse over a night of terrors and horrible nostalgia. Why would Dimitri wish to live in the past? Only demons lie there. "Don't... go."

"What?"

"Don't sound so fucking broken," he says, turning away from Dimitri's penetrating, all-knowing gaze to run a hand down his face. Fuck, he must look as haggard as he feels. 

It takes him a bit, a little as though Dimitri is attempting to approach a wounded animal in just the right way, but he joins him regardless. 

"I couldn't sleep," he confesses, all soft smiles that make Felix's stomach flip. 

Just like in his dream. 

How long has he been kidding himself for, anyway?

"Don't say it like it's unusual."

"I wasn't always this bad. I used to sleep just fine whenever you came to stay." 

The nights they slept in the same bed? They weren't supposed to, but Dimitri never turned him away, just letting him slip beneath the covers and curl up beside him after another tear-inducing nightmare. 

It feels too close to the present-- except that they're bigger now, the beds are smaller, and he's supposed to hate the boar. 

Supposed to. 

Ha, what a joke he is. 

"Felix," he says softly, almost as if terrified of disturbing the tenuous, fragile bit of peace they've found in the silence between them. "Do you think you could ever... do you think _we_ could ever--" 

"Spit it out, already."

Dimitri's gaze drops to the ground in front of him, worrying his bottom lip for a long moment. "... could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" 

_This is mine._

"No."

The hand in his chest closes in on his heart, trapping it and making him feel a little like he's being choked to death. 

"Ah." Felix can't see the disappointment on his face, but he knows it's there. "I see."

"Mm."

"Forgive me; that was a thoughtless thing to ask. Of course you wouldn't."

The hand around his chest squeezes until everything seems to ache. "Go back to sleep, boar."

"... I will do my best, certainly." Dimitri moves to stand, and Felix's hands feel impossibly empty. "I apologize for taking up so much of your time, Felix."

His steps away, ones that should have been a comfort, are far from it. He feels so, so alone. 

_This is mine._

How long has his heart belonged to Dimitri? How long has he cruelly been pushing him away while turning a blind eye to what he knows to be true? 

He's always thought willful ignorance to be a tool wielded exclusively by the tremendously stupid.

Well. 

How fragile is he? How blind to his own foolishness? Pathetic, that he can't forgive the boar his weaknesses even while ignoring his own. 

Even if _Dima_ is no longer, he's still _Dimitri,_ isn't he? Still the same idiot that looks at him like he's his entire world. 

He used to look at Dima the same way. More so, maybe. 

Definitely. 

Pushing himself up onto his feet, Felix lets his steps carry him to Dimitri's door. Deliberate, slow. 

And this time, he knocks, his heart in his chest as he waits.

"Felix?"

He doesn't answer. 

Instead, he grabs hold of Dimitri's lounge shirt and pulls him into a kiss-- the kind he's been thinking about since Valentine's Day. One that Dimitri returns all too willingly. 

Everything else, they can figure out later. 

Because this time, Felix is willing, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering, a shoat is a baby boar! 
> 
> You can find me over [@androugenius](https://twitter.com/androugenius) on twitter if you ever want to talk dimilix/fraldarddfk;ajl;fk!


End file.
